Southern Hearts (Southern Love Series) (10 page)

"Maybe you should take the time off." Vivian
handed Farrah a cold compress.

"I'm okay. We're seven workers down; that just leaves
Shawn, you, and me. I can't afford to leave you guys. Hopefully this will all
blow over very soon," Farrah said.

"Can I ask you a question?" Vivian asked.

"Go ahead."

"Why him? What's so special about him?"

"I don't answer that question."

Farrah's eyes traveled to a middle-aged white man sitting
in a booth in the nearly empty restaurant. "Can I help you?" she
asked him.

"Actually, I'm here to help you. Travis Anderson, at
your service."

"I don't need your help."

"You need me more than I need your delicious food I
tasted an hour ago. I'm a public relations guru. Your name is being dragged
through the mud on every news station, blog, and entertainment show. Since I've
been here, I have only seen three customers enter your restaurant. Yes, my
dear, you need me."

Farrah looked around the restaurant. There were no
customers. She wasn't used to her restaurant being quiet and not having
customers chit-chatting or cooks calling out orders.

"We can talk in my office," Farrah said, leading
the way. "Who sent you, and why are you here?"

"Picture me as your fairy godfather, hired by your
lover to make this situation a little easier for you to manage."

"What are you going to do, snap your fingers and make
all this go away?"

"I don't have that special power, but I do have the
power to spin this into our favor, Farrah. In case you haven't been paying
attention to the news and blogs, Austin McBride and his fiancée are telling
their side of the story. They have been portraying you as a manipulative,
greedy bitch."

Farrah couldn't deny that every last word stung her to the
core. It was just like her mother used to tell her: what makes you cry only
makes you stronger. "Are you sure Austin is saying this?"

"Farrah, you're a grown woman who spread her legs to a
man who was spoken for. Tell me, didn't you see any wrong in that?"

Farrah sat in her chair and sipped her tea. She didn't need
anyone to tell her that her actions and judgments regarding Austin were poor.
She had never had a relationship with a man who had a girlfriend. She was
always one of those women who believed in karma; you reaped what you sowed. Was
Farrah now destined to be a cheater or the one cheated on?

"Your silence is telling me that you saw something
wrong with having an affair with Austin."

"I don't want to talk about the past." Farrah
stood up. "I just want my life to go back to normal."

"Normal is not going to happen anytime soon for
you." Travis looked at Farrah with pity in his green eyes.

"These bloggers and reporters are like a pack of
wolves. They will dig into your past to use anything and everything against
you."

"I have nothing to hide." Farrah folded her arms.

"Really? Not even your momma and your daddy and not to
mention that police report on your ex, Frederick Wright?"

The room felt like it was caving in on her. Farrah stood
up, her breathing becoming heavy as she tried to get some air. Her heart felt
as if someone were squeezing it.

"You're having a panic attack." Travis left the
room to get Farrah a glass of cold water. "Here, take a sip."

"Thank you." Farrah took a swig of the cold water
and tried to calm down.

"Farrah, McBride and his camp want you to sign a
confidentiality agreement stating you will not talk about the affair. This is
not up for debate."

Farrah watched as Travis opened his briefcase and pulled
out a file containing the agreement she was supposed to sign.

"His camp is offering us five million dollars for you
not to talk about the affair." He handed an ink pen to Farrah.

"I don't want the money." Farrah stood and
grabbed the desk when a wave of nausea hit her.

"What do you want?" Travis asked.

"To be left alone. He sent you to help me." She
shook her head. "Leave! I'll sign the damn paper, but tell him to keep his
money."

Farrah scribbled her name on the paper. Travis packed up
his belongings and left Farrah with her thoughts.

After closing the restaurant, Farrah went home. She prepared
herself a small dinner and soaked her achy body in the tub. Drinking a bottle
of wine seemed to make all her troubles disappear for the moment, until the
telephone rang.

"Hi, Nana." Farrah tried to sound cheerful.

"What is going on, Farrah? Are you sleeping with a
married white man?"

"Excuse me?" Farrah wasn't sure she'd heard her
grandmother correctly.

"I didn't raise you to be sleeping around with no damn
married man!"

"Nana!" Farrah pinched the bridge of her nose to
keep her emotions and herself under control.

"You should have stayed with Frederick."

Farrah laughed. "You want to me stay with the man who
was beating my body and mind. You want me to stay with the man who broke my
ribs and busted my lips. I get it, Nana—you want me to stay with the man who used
me as a punching bag until he put me in the hospital. You want me to stay with
the no-good brother because that's what you did."

"Watch your tone with me, Farrah. I'm not the one who
was gallivanting around the country with a married man!" Mona yelled.

"No. Nana. You're the only family member I have left
in this cold world. I will continue sending you money on the first day of the
month like always." Farrah paused to control her shaky voice.
"Goodnight."

"Farrah, you're being too sensitive," Mona tried
to say, but it was too late. Farrah had already hung up the phone.

Farrah needed to get her emotions in check; lately she had
been like a weepy willow, crying on a dime. She looked over at the phone. She
loved her grandmother and could never disrespect the woman who raised her after
her mother was killed. But Farrah had this sneaking suspicion that no matter
how good or successful she was, her grandmother would never be happy for her.

She had turned off the lights and was lying in bed trying to
sleep when she heard glass breaking. Standing up, she walked over to the
window. A car alarm sounded. Grabbing her shoes and car keys, she ran outside.
Farrah stood in front of her car, numb and in shock.

***

This wasn't the first time Farrah had been victimized with
graffiti. One early morning she had gone to open the restaurant and found the
word "Whore" spray painted on the large window outside her eatery.
Shane had filed a report and helped her clean off the paint. She knew Shane was
the only person she could depend on and trust for help.

Now they stood in front of her Mini Cooper, which was
practically destroyed. The windows were smashed, the tires were slashed, and in
bold red letters, the words "Home Wrecker" were sprayed across the
side of her car. Farrah was mortified for people to see the damage.

"Anything else happening besides this?" Shane
asked as he jotted down information.

"You know, Shane, it's my fault," Farrah said as
she stared at her car.

"Farrah, you don't deserve this." He bent his
knees to look Farrah in the eyes.

"Shane, for once in my life, I caved in to love, and
now I hurt all over." She nodded at her car. "I know people are mad
at me. My house has been broken into twice, not to mention the explicit art
work on my business and now my car!"

Shane could see fear in Farrah's brown eyes. "Pack a
bag, Farrah. You're staying at my house tonight."

She shook her head no. "I can't impose."

"Yes, you can, plus it's just me in my big
house." He gave her a stern look. "If you don't pack, I'll pack for you."

"Fine," she said, and threw her hands up.

After packing enough clothes for a few days, Farrah sat
beside Shane in his pickup truck as he drove them to his house.

Farrah finally went to sleep when Shane gave her a sleeping
aid.

While Farrah was sleeping, Shane called in a favor with a
tow trucker he knew to have Farrah's car taken to a body shop for repairs.

Shane looked over a sleeping Farrah. Her ringing cell phone
caught his attention. It was one o'clock in the morning—who could be calling
her? She told him that she had been getting weird phone calls since news broke
of her affair with Austin.

***

Austin held the picture of him and Farrah in his hand. He
hadn't seen her in a month. Every moment since the day he had last seen her,
there had been things he wanted to tell her. He still loved her. He never meant
to hurt the woman he used to hold in his arms at night. He reminisced about
their perfect day out on the lake together.

He looked up to see Rebecca staring at him. "What do
you want?" he asked.

"I was thinking we should sleep in the same bed
together." She walked over to him, sitting down on his desk, showing off
her slender figure in barely visible lingerie.

"Rebecca, I don't love you. Loving someone and being
in love with someone are two different things. I'm not in love with you,"
he said truthfully.

"We're having a baby in eight months." Rebecca
ran her finger up and down Austin's chest.

I wish it was Farrah's belly swelling with my seed.
"Goodnight," Austin said as he moved away from

Rebecca.

Rebecca stood up and marched away, but not before Austin's
words caused her to stop dead in her tracks.

"When is your doctor appointment?" Austin asked.

"In a few weeks," she stuttered.

"Let Megan know the appointment date, so I can
rearrange my schedule," Austin said as he watched Rebecca retreat back
upstairs.

Since he'd allowed Rebecca back in his life, they slept in
different bedrooms. He knew where his heart was. He looked at the photo of
Farrah on his desk holding the trout she'd caught at Lake Lewisville and hoped
that one day she could forgive him. He knew that she didn't want anything to do
with him. She had signed the confidentiality agreement without batting an eye.
But she also sent Travis back with the five million dollar check.

Austin had this sneaking suspicion that Rebecca was
responsible for outing his affair with Farrah. It was awfully convenient that
his relationship with Farrah hit the tabloids when the engagement was called
off. Picking up the phone, he dialed Farrah's home phone. An automated voice
switched on, telling him the number was no longer in service, so he called her
cell phone.

"Hello," a familiar voice said.

"Shane?" Austin looked at the phone to make sure
he'd dialed the right number.

"What's up, country singer?"

"Why are you answering Farrah's cell phone? Where is
she? Is she okay?" he rambled off questions as he looked for his boots.

"I'm taking her somewhere safe."

"Why doesn't she feel safe at her house?"

"Since you've been gone, she has been feeling the
brunt of the scandal. Her house has been broken into twice, not to mention her
restaurant being vandalized numerous times. Farrah is not the same. She is
letting all this shit fuck with her health."

"Where are you taking her?" Austin was already
putting on his boots and looking for his truck keys.

"Home."

Austin stopped in his tracks. "You're not taking her
to
your
house."

"Yes," Shane said and hung up.

"Shit!" Austin cursed as he walked out of his
office, meeting Rebecca's eyes as she watched him like a hawk.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca asked, holding a
glass of milk in her hand.

"Out," he said.

"To her?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

Austin walked out the door, slamming it behind him, jumped
into his truck, and barreled down the dusty road.

***

"Shane!" Austin yelled as he banged on the front
door of Shane's house.

"Why are you fucking yelling this late at night?"
Shane opened the door wearing only boxer shorts.

"Why are you only wearing that bullshit?!" Austin
said as he stalked into the house, searching for any signs of Farrah. He saw
her purse on the sofa and a piece of luggage he recognized from their trip to
New York.

"It's my house, duh." Shane smirked.

"Where is Farrah?" Austin said as he peered
inside the house.

"Why, cousin, I'm doing pretty well, thanks for
asking," Shane said.

"Cut the crap, Shane. Where is Farrah?" Austin
said as he tried the first bedroom.

"She's asleep. I already tucked her in for the
night." Shane laughed when Austin scowled.

Austin looked into the second bedroom; in the middle of the
bed slept Farrah. Her rich brown skin was pale. She hugged the pillow as she
slept, and he wondered if she wished that the pillow was him. He stroked the
side of her face and kissed her. When he adjusted the blanket on her, he
realized that she was naked except for her bra and panties.

Austin rushed into the living room. "You took her
clothes off!"

"She couldn't sleep comfortably if she had all those
clothes on." Shane paused and looked at Austin strangely. "Why do you
care who undresses her? Go back home to your soon-to-be wife."

"You don't understand what I'm going through,"
Austin said sadly.

"No, I don't, but I do know that if I had a woman like
Farrah, I would fight tooth and nail to be with her. It's funny that you can
write and sing those damn songs, but you can't express to the world how you
feel about the woman sleeping in the next room," Shane said with an amused
look on his face.

"You make it sound easy," Austin said. "I
have a woman who is pregnant with my child."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Rebecca was faking it to
stay with you. Do you know her mother gets nothing from her divorce? Do you
know that Rebecca's father, Peter Stephens, cut her off and married a new
woman? If two plus two equals four, then add up that shit with Rebecca."